


Change

by Everyday_Im_Narrating



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Disaac - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Isaac-centric, M/M, platonic scisaac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:43:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3875989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Narrating/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Narrating
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bite made everything different.</p><p>Or, the one where Isaac finally feels powerful, Derek needs him, and nothing good can come from it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change

The bite changed Isaac in more ways than one.

It was a shocking switch, really - the frightened, defenseless boy who cowered from his father's attacks and barely spoke up was suddenly strong, fast, _invincible_ ; his father was dead, his wounds healed in minutes rather than days or weeks, and if he held on to his decision to never think about it, he could pretend the fast healing worked for everything that hurt. Could pretend the old him - weak, vulnerable, human - never existed, wasn't still curled up inside him somewhere.

His shoulders were straight, chin raised, lips curved into a carefully practiced smirk as he walked the school halls with Erica, her transformation just as drastic - at least on the outside, at least where he told himself it mattered. It was good to feel eyes on him and not see the pity and mockery that used to burn with every close look at his bruises. This time, the looks he got were surprised in a good way. There were whispers of _what happened to Lahey, when did he get hot, was he always this cute and I just never noticed?_. It flattered him. It didn't make him want to sneer at them and mutter bitterly that he'd always been there. It never, ever intimidated him to the point where he wanted to hide his face and be invisible again. No, it sure didn't.

It was a new kind of power. Along with the claws, the fangs, the power to stand up for himself and hurt whatever was hurting him - _hurt them first before they had a chance_ \- Isaac found out he didn't need physical violence to have control over someone if they just wanted him bad enough.

And that's when Derek - Derek, who turned him, who gave him power and a home that didn't require several deep breaths before walking inside, who helped him through his first full moon - started looking at him in a way that wasn't quite the same as when he looked at Boyd or Erica. It wasn't something Isaac was used to or knew how to handle. He felt exposed under that stare, like Derek was trying to strip off his newly constructed armor and get to the scared little boy who wasn't there anymore, he wasn't, he _wasn't_. So he took advantage of how his body was smooth and not scarred, blissfully untouched like the past had never happened, never marked him in the first place, and stripped off his clothes instead.

For someone who shoved him roughly into walls and furniture when they were training, Derek had a sweetness about him that was almost suffocating when he traced patterns over Isaac's skin with light fingertips. It wasn't what he wanted. He wanted rough and impersonal. He didn't want to feel vulnerable, didn't want those searing hot paths that Derek outlined with his lips, close and intimate and _too much_ , too fucking much. Isaac could deal with violence, but tenderness was dangerous, tearing at his defenses like claws. So he used his. Digging into Derek's back, hurting on purpose, growling at him to _just fucking get on with it already_ even if his voice was shaking so bad he had to whisper to keep it steady. Derek gave him what he needed. He always did.

In the morning, he found himself curled against Derek's side under the sheets, skin on skin, the Alpha still fast asleep. Isaac retreated like he'd been touching hot iron, and didn't wait to see if Derek would wake up and smile at him or shove him into yet another wall, the moment of weakness annoying the Alpha as much as it scared Isaac. He left first.

Later he'd notice just how much Derek wanted him, needed him almost, starved for touch and closeness like Isaac was for approval. He'd never felt more powerful, more in control, than when he would purposefully deny him that affection and watch his smile fall, his eyes go weak for a second of Alpha-red that was like a high to Isaac. He wanted to break that wall of pride, wanted Derek to need him openly, to strip him as bare as he made Isaac feel. In the meantime, he watched, and he smirked, and it didn't bother him. He didn't need it. _Didn't_ crave it. _Wasn't_ drowning right alongside of the Alpha, for different reasons but with similar results. He was okay. He was in control.

Some nights were easier than others.

Some nights were filled with nightmares, and he woke up sobbing, shaking, profoundly disappointed in himself for still feeling it. Wasn't the bite supposed to take it away? He never wanted to feel weak again. He never wanted to feel again, if he had a choice. On these nights, Isaac would will himself to stop trembling enough to stand up, reassure Erica and Boyd that he was okay - it never seemed to fool them, but they never pressured him, either, and for that he was grateful - and then he was on Derek's bed, the apology for waking him unspoken between filthy promises whispered in his ear. Derek never refused or even hesitated, taking what little of Isaac's affection he could get, hungrily, achingly. Most times he'd stay in the Alpha's bed afterwards, limp and motionless as Derek rested his head on the boy's stomach and closed his eyes, falling asleep in a matter of minutes. It didn't matter. His heart _wasn't_ pounding, and it certainly never ached when he moved Derek to lay on the mattress instead, and left the bed to go sleep on his own.

Erica's death cracked his shield enough that Isaac let himself cry, alone, hating himself for it and trying to blame anyone, trying to metabolize the grief into easily manageable anger.

Boyd's death brought a lost, grieving Derek to Isaac's bed for a change, and he had no energy to do anything but wrap a loose arm around the man's waist, too numb to feel anything but a dull, distant ache even as he felt Derek's body shake beneath him. The shield was breaking fast, crumbling at the edges.

It shattered completely when Derek threw him out, the cup that was thrown at him - at the wall, _at the wall_ , Isaac refused to believe Derek had been aming at _him_ , refused to lower him to his father's level - making a perfect metaphor as he grabbed his bag and left.

At least this time, he didn't have to sweep up the glass shards.

At least this time, Derek wouldn't see him desperately trying to sweep himself up and put the pieces together. Failing miserably at it.

At least this time he wasn't locked in a freezer, but he almost wished he were. It was suffocating anyway.

Scott was sweet and caring, almost overwhelmingly so, but Isaac couldn't even pretend he didn't need it. Mostly, he lay limp and empty, eyes glossed over as he stared up at the ceiling, and Scott didn't push him to do or say more. All he did was lie with Isaac, sometimes hold his hand or stroke his hair, ask gently if there was some way he could help. There wasn't. Isaac's body relaxed under the soft touches, but he didn't feel like he was resting so much as sinking into the mattress and waiting for it to swallow him whole. Scott kept it from happening, and he was grateful, so grateful - maybe Scott couldn't glue his shards back together, but he could hold them in place.

Isaac loved him, but not like he loved Derek. Scott was safety and reassurance and so much affection he didn't know what he did to deserve it, didn't even know if that was entirely a good thing. Derek was home, Derek was _his_ , was tangled with him in a way that Scott was too nice to ever be, too nice to hold onto his soul so tightly that Isaac was breathless without him.

And so when Derek came back, Isaac knew. He wasn't sure if he even said anything to Scott before he went to see him at the loft, but Scott would understand.

Derek looked defeated. Not raw and broken like he'd been when Boyd died, like he'd left Isaac the day he told him to go, but he looked as if he'd taken a beating and was completely resigned in knowing he'd earned it. Isaac suspected that back when he was human, he'd look at his own black eyes and bruised cheeks in the mirror with the exact same expression.

"You ran away." He muttered accusingly, taking a step closer to where Derek sat on the edge of the couch, shoulders slumped.

"Why do you care?"

_Because I need you. Because you broke me. Because I was trying so hard to break you first. Because I missed you. Because I'm tired of faking it. Because you look so completely exhausted. Because you need me too._

"Because I'm your beta."

"I'm not an Alpha anymore." Derek huffed out, and Isaac was gravitating toward him, taking a seat with ample space between them but studying his face carefully.

"Doesn't matter."

Derek turned to face Isaac, his eyes wide and questioning and so openly vulnerable, Isaac didn't want to resist anymore. It was true, Derek looked about as exhausted as Isaac felt. He could harden again, but that would take an amount of energy he wasn't sure he still possessed.

"You're back?" The plea between the lines didn't go unheard.

"I'm still living at Scott's. His mom is great."

"Stay with them. You're getting the best foster family I can think of. You're sixteen, you need it."

 _Derek was sixteen too when he lost them, all of them._ Isaac wondered, if Derek was a born wolf, where did he get the strength to keep up his armor, if not from a sudden shift? Where did he find the extra power that wasn't there before?

"I plan to." He moved in closer, let the side of his body align with Derek's. "But yeah, I'm back." _I'm yours. I'm here. Don't leave again._

This time, when Derek closed the distance between them with a kiss - forceful and rough, because it had been the only thing Isaac allowed him for so long - he didn't fight it. Couldn't if he wanted to, and he didn't want to, either. Instead, Isaac let himself soften, slowed it down with a gentle hand at the back of Derek's neck, stroking at his hair and letting Derek take the lead.

Derek needed to have someone to guide, to feel like he was doing something good, something useful, something _right_. Isaac needed Derek. It worked.

Much like their first, that night was all soft touches and whispered promises, only Isaac never demanded more. This was so much more intense, in its own way. Derek seemed to reach inside his soul with every press of his lips, every stroke of his hands, and Isaac let him, gratefully, finally at peace. This time it wasn't like drowning, but like lowering your head under the warm water in the bathtub, where all you can hear is the soothing sound of the water, and you know you can come back up for air if you want to. It was comforting, not suffocating. It was home.

And when they were lying together afterwards, bodies aligned as he curled into Derek's chest and let the man wrap his arms tight around him, Isaac found himself feeling very much like that defenseless boy he once had been, the one who was desperate for love and affection. Only this time, he had it.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was loosely (loosely!) inspired by Marina's songs I'm A Ruin and Radioactive. Mostly I just needed to write some angst, okay.
> 
> Shout-out to Sarah for being awesome.


End file.
